Savin' me
by Thatkliqkid
Summary: My first wrestling fic. Set in 2001 Shawn Michaels tries his best to adjust to life as a father and husband but has his own personal demons to deal with. He turns to religion in an attempt to gain salvation and solace. Please read and review.
1. Chapter 1

The locker room was spinning. The colours all blending into one drug induced swirl, the sounds of his colleagues amplified tenfold as they jostled with each other, ribbing each other mercilessly.

It meant nothing to him.

He was happiest when left to his own devices, could only reach peace when in oblivion.

At least the pain disappeared.

At least his back wasn't aching, the flow of agony momentarily blocked for now. He knew it would return sooner or later. It always did.

He also knew that all he had to do was reach into his bag for a handful of pills and the pain could be replaced by this feeling of emptiness; of floating.

Nothingness.

The most flamboyant superstar in wrestling history felt best when he felt nothing.

He didn't even start when he felt the heavy hand hit his shoulder; he just turned his head slowly, his eyes travelling upwards to see the concerned face of his former tag team partner staring back at him.

"What have you taken?" he muttered, his voice heavy with accusation.

"Nothin'" slurred Shawn his body limp, his attitude carefree. The drugs had the power to devoid him of all emotion and he loved them for this fact alone. They blocked everything out, halted all physical and emotional pain, and temporarily granted him an hour or two's release from his demons.

"Shawn"

"Go 'way Hunter," he slurred, feebly attempting to push his friend's hand away. His actions were slow and sluggish; his demeanour disorientated. He wasn't fooling anybody least of all his best friend.

"You know you'll get your ass fired if you keep throwing them things back" snapped Hunter exasperated. He couldn't understand Shawn's addiction. He never had. He understood the temptation to take the pills; especially in the face of an injury or two, but Shawn's pain was all psychological.

"So let 'em fire me" mumbled Shawn, "Let them, I don't give a damn anyway. All they do is tell me what to do and what not to do, where I can go-"

"Bullshit Shawn" exploded Hunter furiously

"It's my life!"

"Yeah well what about Rebecca's life? What about your_ kid_ Shawn?!" retorted Hunter ruthlessly.

Shawn gave a shrug; his shoulders slumped as he leaned back against the wall resting his hot pounding head against the cool tiles.

"Don't you even _care_ about what you're doing to your wife and kid Shawn?"

His brow furrowed in annoyance as he stared into the burning eyes of his friend.

"Of course I care!" he spat bitterly, "They're my family Hunter"

" So why don't you go start acting like you're part of that family instead of popping pills back here in a dingy locker room? Christ Shawn you're _better_ than this. Fuck man what happened to you?!" cried Hunter furiously.

"They stopped cheering" muttered Shawn bitterly. He stood up and pushed past his colleagues leaving a bewildered and confused Hunter staring at his retreating back.

"Stopped cheering?" he whispered breathlessly, "That's the lamest excuse for popping pills _I've_ ever heard!"

Hunter faltered as he felt all eyes on him as the gurgle of locker room chatter drained to silence. Realising he had spoken slightly louder than he intended to he slammed his holdall against the bench and rapidly began unpacking his wrestling attire. Let Shawn act like a jerk, Hell he'd been high before it wasn't like he couldn't take care of himself –

He hesitated. Sometimes Shawn wasn't all that capable of taking care of himself when under the influence of drugs. The knife of concern continued to cut and slice at his heart. He emitted a frustrated sigh, stuffed his attire back in his bag and stormed from the room allowing the door to slam shut behind him.

Shawn sat outside, his legs strung over the wall, fiddling with the silver crucifix around his neck. He didn't really know why he was still wearing it. It didn't _do_ anything. It was just a token piece of jewellery. A silver necklace that showed his mother he was still catholic, even if he couldn't remember the last time he'd stepped foot in a church, and a token to show Rebecca that he did indeed know who Jesus Christ was. It meant nothing to him personally.

So why couldn't he remove it? It wasn't as if it was glued around his neck, far from it. It hung loosely against his tanned skin, buried amongst folds of red cotton.

He brushed his hand against his glistening forehead, shoved the blue cap backwards so that it sat more comfortably atop his knotted hair and exhaled deeply. The painkillers were beginning to lose their effect and he felt himself plummet to earth, the searing fist of pain clutched at his heart and sent torrents of agony rampaging through his contorted spine.

He winced as he felt the hurt intensify.

"The come down crash not as great as the start up buzz?"

Shawn startled at the condemning tone. He whipped around to see Hunter staring at him through narrowed slits of disappointment.

"You would know" spat Shawn snidely.

"You see me doing that shit lately Shawn?" retorted Hunter, his voice torn with annoyance, "I did it a long time ago, with Kev, Kid and Scott. I woulda thought we'd all grown up since then. Come on Shawn, you're not the showstopper anymore, the Kliq's long been dead and this isn't 1995"

"I suffer from herniated and crushed discs in my spine Hunter, not memory loss!" snapped Shawn furiously, the memories dragged from the dirge of his mind eating him up with resentment.

"Keep taking those and you soon will have"

"Yeah well, I could be taking a hell of a lot worse" countered Shawn his face aflame with anger.

"You think you can act all holier than thou because you're not taking 'roids or blow? Shawn you have a wife and son to think about! Are you having a hard time grasping that? Have the drugs and chair shots really scrabbled your scrawny little brain _that_ much? Jesus Shawn! You can't run around getting high, sleeping with Sunny when it takes your fancy, you can't go out every night, get totally wasted and then brag about how many fights you _just _squeezed out of the next day. You can't do it anymore! You're thirty five years old for fucks sake! Isn't it about time you grew up a little bit?!" roared Hunter irately. He stared intently, his contorted face reflected in the ardent sapphire pools of fury.

" I don't _want_ to sleep with Sunny, I don't _want_ to get totally wasted!" he protested, his tone laced with anger and injustice.

"Then stop taking the drugs" snapped Hunter, emphasising each word slowly as if his friend was an idiot.

"Who are you to stand in judgement of me?" spat Shawn coldly, his eyes narrowed with displeasure, "Just who are _you?_ So I take painkillers now and again-"  
"It's not now and again Shawn" interrupted Hunter sharply

"So I take painkillers_ now and again_," continued Shawn pointedly; disregarding his friend's words, "At least I never took steroids, never took cocaine, and never smoked hash from arena to arena. I didn't do any of _those _things Hunter. That wasn't _me_! I never _cheated_ on my girl!"

Hunter flinched; the truth as cold and crisp as a sharp slap to the face.

"No, you just cheated on your wife" he retorted finally, the words spilling forth on a torrent of spite.

"Yeah cause me and Theresa had _such_ a strong relationship" spat Shawn his eyes blazing with fury, _what did Hunter hope to gain from dragging up the ghosts of the past?_

"Still cheating no matter how bad the relationship is" muttered Hunter softly.

" Yeah well, you would know" retorted Shawn snidely, he untangled his golden brown hair from the elastic band, shook it free angrily before scraping the frizzed mess back into a loose ponytail, snapping the strands into place haphazardly. He caught the baseball cap before it slid to the ground, yanked it into place, venting his frustration on the frayed material.

"What's the matter with you Shawn?"  
" Why does something always have to be the matter with me?!" cried Shawn, his tone biting. He was sick to death of being interrogated, of being dictated to. This man before him was meant to be his friend; not his surrogate father. He balked at rules and regulations; could not stand to be ordered about like a small child, he never had been able to stomach the concept of obeying authority; not since his days living under the roof of the 'colonel'. Living as an 'army brat' may have installed respect for authority in some, but for Shawn it installed a rebellious streak. _He_ wasn't in the army, that was his father's forte; his father's passion. The thing that was loved and forsaken above all others including him. His eyes darkened to a storm wrenched blue as the torrents of anger continued to pulsate at the peak of them.

"Because you're taking _drugs_ Michael!"

Silence crashed into the gulf created by the warranted use of Shawn's legitimate Christian name. He pursed his lips with fury, nibbled at the flesh in an effort to quell the explosion he could feel bubbling beneath the surface. He _despised_ that name, loathed it in its entirety and knew that Hunter was throwing it out there as an underhand shot. He stood, his eyes blemished with rage as he gazed at his burning reflection in Hunter's regret flecked ones.

"Look, Shawn I'm sorry I called you-"

"Just leave me alone!"

The angered cry split the air, tore through the efforts of peace-making. Shawn shoved past his friend, slammed the door sharply behind him as he entered the building. He closed his eyes as he leaned against the wall his whole body quivering. He raised a trembling fist and sent it crashing against the plaster punctuated by a harsh cry of torment. The animalistic screams spilled from shaking lips as he vented his fury on the wall.

"_Shawn!"_

Roused from his violent display of temper Shawn startled, he turned, his knuckles a mesh of fresh black and purple bruises, veiled thinly in dust and residue from the cracked plaster. He stared, felt his throat tighten at the look of frosted displeasure and disappointment strewn across Vince's face. He gulped, desperately tried to dislodge the lump he felt building. What did it matter if he pissed Vince McMahon off? It certainly wouldn't be the first time. What was he gonna do? Fire him? _Please. _

"What?" he muttered hoarsely

"Don't _what_ me!"

" Well don't talk to me like I'm five!" exploded Shawn, " I'm not some kid you found scrawling on the wall in magic marker Vince, I'm a grown man of thirty five who's punched the wall once or twice cause he's had it up to here with this _shit!_ All I get, all the time, non-stop is '_Stop that Shawn, you'll hurt yourself Shawn, You're wrecking your life Shawn, what about Rebecca and the baby? Why can't you grow up?' _I'm fucking _sick_ of it!"

Vince stared, his lips firmly pressed together; he raised an eyebrow questioningly in the heavy silence.

"Why don't you go back to San Antonio for a few days? Looks like you could do with a break" he suggested finally

"What I _need_ Vince, is something to do"

"You've got something to do Shawn; you've got a family to support. But there is no way I am allowing you to enter a public arena and perform in the state that you are in. Do you honestly think you're in any condition to go out there and cut a promo? To do _anything?_"

"I could cut one hell of a shoot" spat Shawn his eyes blazing

"Yes and you'd regret it when the pills were completely eradicated from your system" said Vince dryly.

Shawn stared at him before casting his eyes to the ground, the sapphire blue smeared with shame. He was unaware that his addiction was such common knowledge.

"You didn't think I knew about that did you?" questioned Vince softly

"I don't take pills" denied Shawn harshly as he raised his eyes swiftly

"Oh come on Shawn"

"I don't take them!" he cried angrily

Vince emitted a heavy sigh; shot him a look of disbelief before raising his shoulders in a non committing gesture.

"Go home Shawn" he muttered finally

"Fine, FINE!" roared Shawn furiously, "I'll go, I'll go home and I won't come back!"

" Are you _ever_ going to grow up ?"

" Yeah when you stop telling me what to do" snarled Shawn

" You know what Shawn I'm getting mighty sick of that chip on your shoulder" snapped Vince glaring at the younger man.

"Yeah cause you're just plain perfect aren't you?" spat Shawn, "The owner of a multi-billion dollar company who makes a living dodging the feds"

_That's right Shawn; deflect the light from your own shortcomings onto someone else's. Good strategy. _

The voice of reason niggled at him, battled its way through the cloud of anger and denial. He continued to employ his usual tactics and pushed it aside choosing to allow his anger to run rampant.

"I'm gonna let that one slide for now "said Vince slowly, his voice edged with danger, "But if you don't clean up your act soon there are gonna be serious consequences Shawn. Even Hunter's getting fed up with your actions for Christ's sake and he's your best friend!"

"_What_?" snapped Shawn furiously; he had blocked most of Vince's chastisement, only choosing to hear the words "Hunter" and "fed up".

His deep sense of paranoia and infamous short fuse was only intensified by his use of the pain pills. He felt a surge of rage and indignation bubble and boil through his veins.

"Shawn-"sighed Vince

"Oh don't worry I'm gonna leave, I mean it's ok I won't wreck anything especially not your precious show. God forbid it might interfere with the ratings!" sneered Shawn cutting him off swiftly. He turned on his heel and stormed from the building allowing the exit door to slam sharply behind him.

Hunter had claimed Shawn's previous seat on the wall . He sat there the argument with Shawn replaying itself in his mind over and over like a stuck record.

"Happy?!"

He startled at the sound of Shawn's furious cry, turned in his direction to see the scarlet face of rage before him.

"Sorry?"

"You happy now? I'm going home; Vince is pissed so why don't you run along and tell him some more crap about me? You're supposed to be my _friend_!"  
" I don't know what you-"

"You know what I mean!" spat Shawn cutting him off harshly, "Why would you do this to me? After everything I've done for you, you selfish son of a bitch. I can't believe you would stab me in the back like that man!"

"I haven't "snapped Hunter his face awash with a mixture of concern and fury, "I just mentioned to Vince that-"

"You shouldn't be saying anything to Vince about me!" cried Shawn indignantly, "What I do is _my_ business. It has nothing to do with you or anyone else."

"Except your wife and kid" retorted Hunter, "Why can't you see that you're in the wrong?! I didn't even do anything Shawn. _You_ are the one who keeps popping pills like they're skittles!"

Shawn glared at him, rage permeating from every pore as he stood. His fists were clenched by his side aching to be released to pummel the disappointed look from Hunter's face.

"Just go fuck yourself" spat Shawn finally.

Hunter watched him leave, didn't bother wasting his breath to call the other man back as he stormed to his car.

If Shawn didn't want his help then he wouldn't give him it. Let him drug himself to death. Right now he could care less.

He turned on his heel and re-entered the arena, not giving Shawn a second glance.

_A six year friendship was well and truly severed. _


	2. Chapter 2

**Just wanted to say thank you very much to everyone who reviewed. I wasn't sure how many people would be interested in my angst rambles on the wrestling fandom lol so thanks to everyone who read and reviewed the first chapter. I just write as things come to me so if it seems random at points that's why. Also I'm not a very consistant updater due to writer's block and university work. I hope that doesnt make me lose readers lol I try my best to write what I can. Anyway I hope you like chapter 2.

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The plane grumbled to a halt, the engine roared and spluttered into a sickly silence.

The terminal was a bustle of activity as Shawn battled his way through the crowd his patience stretched far thinner than it should have been. He yanked the duffel bag further onto his shoulder and continued the futile fight against the tidal wave of people.

Impatiently he stood, waiting to be let through customs.

The crowd surged forward and he stumbled. He gritted his teeth and hitched the duffel bag back against his shoulder trying his best to keep his temper in check.

The three hour flight had done nothing to improve his spirit; instead it had enraged him further. A plane full of chattering people and screaming children were not his idea of fun.

_You know you should really think about that the next time Cameron starts to cry in a public place_.

Once again he chose to ignore the small thread of reason and instead decided to focus all his anger and hatred in the direction of other people and their faults instead of his own.

_Besides, Cameron isn't an eleven year old kid who refuses to stop kicking the chair when people are trying to sleep. _

Arguing with yourself really wasn't the most stable of discussions.

Finally he managed to leave the airport, his shirt stuck to his back with sweat. He pulled the cap further down his face to block the glare of the sun and headed for home.

He faltered outside the front door, one hand resting lightly on the doorknob. He glanced down at his hand, was surprised to see it tremble so.

He flung the duffel bag to the ground and tore the zip open. He fumbled for the painkillers, felt the craving now more than ever. He couldn't go in there and tell Rebecca that he'd been sent home, that Vince and Hunter now despised him even more than he despised himself. _That he wasn't capable of being a man and admitting to his actions. _

He glanced down at the small pale tablets, debated his behaviour for all of one second, before throwing them back and swallowing them in one gulp.

He closed his eyes and heart to the guilt that momentarily swamped him.

He was past caring what people thought. He'd left that small shred of empathy and concern in a one room apartment in Birmingham.

He picked the bag up and shoved open the door.

He leaned his fragile form against the wall and shut his eyes allowing the bliss of ignorance to sweep through his veins as he felt the drugs kick in.

" Shawn?"

It never ceased to amaze him how she had the power to reach deep inside him with that one syllable. Whenever anyone else spoke his name he could block them if he chose to. Anyone but Rebecca.

He opened his eyes and peered at her through his eyelashes.

" Hey" he slurred. He cleared his throat in an effort to conceal his weakness.

_Way to take responsibility Shawn. _

"Hi" she said softly, "I thought you weren't home 'til Tuesday"

Shawn glanced at her, replaying the many scenes in his mind. In the movie of his past this was the scene that he had repeated more than any other. The coming home wasted part. The excess overdose of drugs and drink. The screaming and shouting. The vicious argument between husband and wife before he stormed out to repeat the cycle.

_So why wasn't Rebecca playing the allocated part? Why was she deviating from the scheduled script?_

"Mix up of dates" he mumbled drowsily. He could feel the wall shifting. Could feel the floor hurtling up to meet him but he made no attempt to break his fall, he didn't even startle at Rebecca's scream of concern.

He lay in a heap, felt pain tingle and crash through his contorted body. He giggled helplessly in a heap

"Oh Shawn"

The whisper floated down on his broken form, the weight of disappointment far more condemning than any blow he had received in a wrestling ring. Far more sobering than any harsh word hurled across the room from Theresa.

"Shout at me"

"I won't shout at you Shawn"

"_Shout at me"_ he barked

She didn't flinch from his screaming in fact she seemed unfazed by it. Gently Rebecca pulled him into sitting position. She stared into misty sapphire orbs, the usually vibrant blue dredged in a haze of drug abuse.

"You're bleeding" she whispered, gently smearing the scarlet droplets into tender oblivion.

Shawn glanced at her as she rubbed the flecks of blood between her slender fingers.

"I'm not bleeding" he muttered

"Baby, you've cut your forehead"

"I'm not bleeding" he said again, the vehemence dripping from his tone

"Shawn-"

"I don't _bleed! _"snapped Shawn harshly, "I poison"

His words fell into the gulf between them, the gorge of misunderstanding.

"Baby-"

"Just leave me"

"Shawn!"

"You wanna stay here and watch your life go down the commode? _Fine_ stay and watch me destroy everything"

"Why do you hate yourself?" she whispered, her voice torn.

Shawn looked up at her, felt a flicker of regret at the sight of the tears he could see welling in her eyes.

"'Cause you won't" he said softly. He lifted a heavy hand to his brow and smeared the blood across his forehead. It stung.

"You won't hate me" he repeated thinly, "I come home wasted and you don't bat an eye, I fall down on the floor because I'm so drugged up to the Heavens I don't even know where the hell I am and you worry about me, I go out and leave you and Cameron alone here for hours and you don't say a thing. You don't shout at me, you don't question me, you just, you just let me, let me carry on hurting you, hurting Cameron, hurting _us_. Why? Why would you do that? Why would you willingly walk this path of destruction when you can just leave? Why don't you just leave? I hate myself because you _won't _and damn it Rebecca you _know_ you should!"

"Why should I hate you?"

"Do you not listen to me?!" cried Shawn heatedly, "I _hurt_ you! Everything I touch, I _destroy_. I ruin everything!"

" Baby the only person you're hurting is yourself"

" No, No I hurt you" he whispered breathlessly his throat tightening. He could feel his chest contracting with the want, the _need_ to cry. He could feel the moisture on the brink of escaping, of falling into tears of weakness. He hadn't allowed himself to cry in years. Not over something personal anyway. Sure when he'd broken his back he'd shed tears of regret and agony. But he hadn't cried tears of sorrow and repentance since he was a young man. Theresa had left him and he'd carried on, hadn't cried, and hadn't felt a pang of longing. He'd just gone into work, downed the pills and made a mockery of the business. Now he could feel the turmoil bubble and bleed beneath the surface, a murmur of grief escaped his trembling lips as the cold tear slipped down the bridge of his nose. He pulled himself away from Rebecca, pulled his knees to his chest and rested his head in his arms.

The gentle tugging on his sleeve did nothing to comfort him, the way she wrapped her arms so readily around his shaking shoulders provided little solace. Instead they intensified the tears, increased his sobs until his whole body racked with them.

"I don't want you to leave" he wept, his voice muffled,

" I know" said Rebecca softly, she reached out and gently shifted a strand of her husband's hair from his view. He lifted his head, his features blushed red. Rebecca glanced into the azure spheres of sorrow, saw the dregs of tears that still remained there.

" I'm sorry" he whispered

" I know" repeated Rebecca

" I'm so sorry" he hiccoughed, his eyes glistening.

_You don't deserve her. Do you know that? Do you know how much shit she gets from you? How much heartache you cause? _

The voice berated him. The flip side of his personality eating away at his already fragile soul, he had nothing left to be confident about. The sense of pride was gone, when the smoke screen of Shawn Michaels was laid to rest who was he? His low self esteem flamed up aided by the drugs, assisted by the deep sense of worthlessness rooted in his failure to support his wife and child the way he thought he should.

If he could go back to Birmingham he'd find that gun. Hell he'd find it, load it and blast his insignificant brains all over the vile carpet. He'd stop the addiction before it started. He'd say no to Theresa, he'd never have taken that bump off the casket,.

_He'd never have met Rebecca._

The sinister thoughts faltered, the brightest chink of light on the otherwise darkest trail shimmered through.

He raised a shaking hand, wrapped it in his sleeve and smeared the salty tears of self pity into nothingness.

_He was lucky to even know this woman. _

That thought alone kept him steeped in San Antonio and prevented his tortured mind from revisiting Birmingham;the place where he had teetered on the edge of suicide so many years ago.

He returned his gaze to his wife who sat, one leg crossed beneath her staring at him. No judgement crossed her lips, no anger sparked her beautiful brown eyes, instead she was gazing at him with unwavering concern and empathy.

Tomorrow he stopped the drugs.

_You keep telling yourself that. _


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry for not updating in a while. I've been really busy lol. Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far I appreciate it. I hope people like this chapter :-)

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The world was splitting apart at the seams; the fuzzy blur smeared itself into reality as Shawn opened his eyes. He lay still waiting for the ceiling to stop whirling above him. With a groan he dragged his body into sitting position and cast his gaze about the room.

He blinked as the cream walls loomed around him, his brow furrowed in confusion.

How had he gotten from the bottom of the staircase to bed?

_How do you get to bed every other time you pass out in drug induced stupor? She has to help you into bed like a child seven days a week. _

He rubbed his hand against sleep shadowed eyes in an effort to dislodge the sands of slumber. He flexed his body, winced as his back contracted.

_Really shouldn't do that._

He stretched his legs until he felt the limbs click. He was in bad shape. Three years of being inactive in the wrestling world combined with pills, beer and his mama's home made cookies had managed to turn his toned muscles into mush.

_Yes because keeping fit is really on your top ten things to do list. It's right underneath 'Stop popping pills'_

Shawn rolled onto his stomach, allowed his dusty mane to fall into his fatigued face. He pushed the niggling voice of criticism and scorn to the rear of his mind, chose instead to snuggle further beneath the blankets, not caring that the sun glaring through the chink in the curtains or the eerie quiet downstairs meant that it was well past noon.

He closed his eyes, rested his brow against the pillows and lay there soaking up the warmth smiling slightly as the blessed weight of sleep once again overpowered him.

It seemed as if mere seconds had passed when he was unceremoniously awoken by the crash of small limbs against his own. He buried his face against the fabric, emitted a groan of defeat and weariness.

He froze as the high pitched giggle split the air, dragged himself upwards and peeked through his golden brown bangs at the source of commotion.

"Hey kid" he whispered softly.

The toddler squealed at this acknowledgement, continued crawling over his father's idle form.

Shawn shot him a small grin as the youngster caressed his face with sticky fingers.

"What you doing?" he asked lightly as he peered into large grey eyes

"Wake"

"Waking me up?" translated Shawn. He faltered as his small son pulled at his face in an attempt to reinforce the message that playtime was well overdue.

"Ok, Cameron ok"

He picked the little boy up, brought the small body close to his own so he could inhale the essence of him. This child, this beautiful baby boy deserved better.

He sighed sharply as his stomach tightened. He really needed to stop the pills. Sleeping in until mid afternoon and neglecting your only son wasn't being a good parent. Leaving Rebecca to take care of Cameron all day unassisted was not being a good husband either.

"Play!" commanded Cameron tugging at his father's shirt.

_He won't want you forever_

Shawn tightened his grip on the child as if afraid the voice of paranoia was going to steal the child from his arms, he dotted his small head with tender kisses.

_Once he figures out what a deadbeat he's got for a father he'll be out of here so fast your head'll spin. _

Subconsciously Shawn shook his head, tried his best to counter the thought. Cameron was his baby, he didn't notice if he took pills every now and again. He just wanted daddy to play with him every once in a while. He understood that sometimes daddy got too tired to play.

_Like you did?_

Shawn brushed the criticism off, desperately tried to block the distant memory from view. He didn't want to take a walk down memory lane. Not right now.

"Daddy _play_!"

The impatient tone of his near two year old son jolted him back to the present.

"Play what?" he asked

"Bang"

"We gotta teach you some new words" said Shawn

_Who's we? Since when were you sober long enough to teach the kid anything except how to drool all over yourself and ramble incoherent nothings?_

"Go jump" muttered Shawn through clenched teeth. He faltered as Cameron gazed up at him in bewilderment, awaiting a logical response.

"Wanna play with G.I. Joe?" he asked

Cameron shook his head.

"Wanna watch TV?"

Again the toddler refuted Shawn's get out clause.

"Cam I don't wanna play shoot outs"

"BANG!"

Shawn chewed at his lip, exhaled sharply through his nose.

_Go on; shout at him for wanting to play. Be a product of your own upbringing. _

He sighed deeply as the conflict raged within him.

"Come on" he said softly. He clambered from the bed, left the blankets in a crumpled heap as he exited the room with the small boy in tow.

When Rebecca came to investigate Shawn had managed to turn the front room into a home made battlefield.

Clothes and sheets were strewn across the upturned sofa and their son stood crouched behind one, diaper sagging to his knees with what looked to be the fruit bowl on his head. In his tiny fists he held a water pistol.

Her husband was no better; he dived from behind the arm chair, his hair tousled and his clothes rumbled, clad in wrist guards and knee pads from years gone by with a baseball cap skewered sideways. He gave a cry of surprise at the sight of Cameron, threw his arms into the air and let out a wail of mock defeat that intermingled with the child's high pitched shriek of amusement.

With a _rat-a-tat_ noise Shawn collapsed to the ground, lay writhing on the carpet on his side. He closed his eyes and lay still. Rebecca looked on, her lips curled upwards as she desperately tried to contain her giggles.

"_Ow!"_ exclaimed Shawn; he opened his eyes as the plastic made contact with his face for the second time.

"Cameron don't hit daddy with the water pistol, that's not what it's for!" chastised Rebecca from the doorway.

"Yeah Cameron that's not what it's for" said Shawn tugging it gently from his small hands. He threw it behind him, far out of reach so that his son couldn't try bludgeoning him with the toy once more.

Cameron giggled, his eyes shimmering with laughter.

"I gave up; you're not supposed to hit me!" said Shawn with mock indignation

"Play"

"We just played!"

"Again" demanded Cameron staring down at his father.

"Daddy's tired" complained Shawn from his position on the floor, "Go pester Mommy"

Obediently the boy waddled to his mother, clutched at her skirt and demanded that she too crawl behind the makeshift trenches.

"Shawn" giggled Rebecca

"Hey if I'm roped into this war you're in it too" said Shawn with a sly smirk.

She kneeled up her hair flowing down her back as she stared after Cameron who was bent down scrabbling beneath the coffee table.

"What do you think he's found?" she whispered

"My bet's on either food or some sort of makeshift weapon to clobber me with"

Rebecca tutted good naturedly as her husband smiled.

"What've you got Cam?" she called as the toddler emerged

He stumbled on unsteady limbs over to his parents and held out the container.

Rebecca took it and glanced down, her face white.

Shawn felt his heart lurch into his mouth as he saw the familiar bottle of pills.

_Shame you didn't put that bet on Soma. _


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks very much to everyone for the kind reviews, sorry again that it's taken me a while to update. Not sure if the places or dates are 100 acurate but meh it is fan fiction and I'm forgetful so bare with me please lol. Hope people keep on reading lol, enjoy the chapter :-)

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**

Shawn sat blanketed in the shadows, the cold air nipping and kissing at his shivering body. Still he didn't move. He carried on sitting on the cold stoop, his hair billowing about his face in the frosty darkness of the porch.

The house was silent as he raised the neck of the glass bottle to his quivering lips and swigged. He gulped the bitterly sour liquid greedily, eager to drown the memories.

_You won't wipe out what you did._

"I can try" croaked Shawn his voice raw with the weight of unshed tears.

He blinked savagely, his heart thumping in his chest as the terrified face of his beautiful wife flared before his eyes again.

_What would you have done if he swallowed one? _

"He wouldn't,"

"Couldn't" corrected Shawn a surge of fury fleeting through his veins, "He couldn't have swallowed one. Child proof. They were child proof!"

_Could you forgive yourself?_

The voice berated him relentlessly

"It doesn't matter 'cause he couldn't have swallowed any" he muttered agitatedly.

_Let's just say he could have. Would you be able to live with yourself? Would Rebecca?_

"HE WOULDN'T HAVE SWALLOWED ANY!"roared Shawn hurling the bottle with all his might.

It shattered leaving a spray of glass in its wake. He sat, his chest heaving with rage as he glanced at the glistening shards in the dimness.

He kneaded his eyes with balled up fists desperately trying to erase the look from his small son's face as he held the pills so casually, like a flag of shame and weakness in front of him.

His own face flamed red at the thought.

_You could have seriously hurt him._

"I _know_!" He spat the syllables through clenched teeth as he dug his knuckles into his temple, the anger mounting.

_Then what are you gonna do about it?_

He grabbed at fistfuls of hair, let out a murmur of drunken despair as the hot sear of pain shot through his scalp.

He staggered to his feet, ignoring the crunch of glass beneath his boots as he stumbled back into the kitchen his body weaving and whacking against the wooden doorframe.

He picked up the phone from the kitchen counter and dialled the familiar number, listened to it ring impatiently.

"Hello?"

"She left me" he mumbled

"Shawn?" Kevin's bewilderment crackled down the line

"She left me" he repeated his voice thick with booze and tears

"What happened?" sighed Kevin. He was used to rambling phone calls, had lost count of the times Shawn had made these types of statements. He'd announced that Sunny had left him late one night after a cocktail of pills only to find that she had in fact gone out with her friends. Something Shawn had prior knowledge of but couldn't remember in his intoxicated state. Kevin had calmed him that night too.

"She took Cameron and she left!" barked Shawn agitatedly

_Tell him why. _

"Shawn have you been drinking?"

"No"

"Have you taken any pills?"

"No"

_Liar._

Kevin sighed again.

"Are you sure Becky didn't just take him to your Mom's?"

"Yeah she went to Mom's and left me" said Shawn his voice cracking.

Kevin nibbled at his lip as he heard his friend exhale shakily.

A terse canyon of silence stretched between them.

"Cam, Cameron g-got my pills"

The confession finally spilled forth on a deep sob, Shawn spluttered against the handset which trembled in his loose grip.

Kevin felt his heart lurch into his throat.

"Did he swallow any?" he asked trying to keep his voice steady.

"No" wept Shawn, "But he could have couldn't he Kev?"

Kevin remained mute not knowing what course to take. Of course he could have swallowed some. Then again Shawn already knew that.

"Kev? He could have couldn't he and then, and th-then h-h-he…" Shawn sobs intensified.

"Whoa,, calm down Shawn"

"Wh-what would you do if Tristan sw-swallowed something he shouldn't?"

_Like Kev would be dumb enough to leave painkillers where his son could reach them._

"Kev?"

Kevin glanced at his watch. It was late but not late enough that he couldn't get out to San Antonio if needs be.

" Kev?"

The small and frightened plea jolted him back to the matter at hand.

"Shawn, stay where you are ok?"

_Like you've got so many places to go._

"Why?" asked Shawn shakily

"I'm gonna come through and see you"

"No you don't have to do that"

_Yes because you're totally fine aren't you?_

"It won't take that long"

"Kev it'll take three hours, look don't I'm fine please" He tried his best to stall the tears

_Don't try back-pedalling now. If you hadn't got totally wasted he wouldn't be so worried._

"Shut up" seethed Shawn bitingly

Silence buzzed down the line as Kevin licked chafed lips worriedly.

"Who you talking to Shawn?"

_Go on Shawn; tell him you talk to voices in your head. That'll calm Kev. _

Shawn remained mute, the phone hot and heavy in his sweating palm. He flung it to the table top in annoyance and stormed from the room not caring that Kevin was still talking into the receiver.

He sank against the sofa; his eyes wet with the remains of salty tears and glanced around the empty room.

His gaze fell on the container standing like a beacon of disgrace on the mantelpiece where Rebecca had placed it before taking their small son into the hallway as they had wordlessly put on their coats and left.

It taunted him; the anger pulsated and burned in his ears. He stormed to his feet and crossed the room snatching at the pills.

He didn't want to remember her stricken face any longer. He refused to allow the shame and guilt to tear at his heart. He needed numbness and _Jack Daniels_ wasn't quite up to the job tonight.

Half of them ended up on the floor, slipping through his trembling fingers as he poured the small bottle back crunching the others savagely with his teeth.

_Shouldn't drink and take drugs._

"Don't give a fuck" spat Shawn wiping his mouth roughly with the back of his hand.

_You could kill yourself_

"Oh yeah? Well good" he snapped

_You think Rebecca's gonna agree with you?_

Shawn felt the stab of regret pierce his heart. He had a wife and child. He wasn't in Birmingham drowning in a cold, dark sea of loneliness. He was in San Antonio voluntarily diving into the murky waters of self pity and selfishness.

He sighed; the breath trembled and heaved in despair around him. He wished he could go back to Alabama and refuse those stupid pills. Hell he'd fling the dirty fuckers from Marty's palm and save them both.

_Too bad time travel is restricted to movies and books. _

"Too bad you're just an annoying voice" snapped Shawn angrily

_That you listen to_

"Shut the fuck up!"

_Instead of arguing with the imaginary voice in your warped mind shouldn't you be trying to save your sad little existence? _

Shawn felt a shiver run through him as he remembered his stupidity of mixing pills and alcohol. The last time he'd tried something like that he'd been in Syracuse and the night had not ended well.

He stumbled from the room, barged into the downstairs bathroom not caring that the wooden door cracked against the wall in his urgency. He dropped to his knees in front of the porcelain bowl, his heart hammering profusely in his chest as he raised slick fingers to his mouth.

He retched as he drove his fingers back, felt tears spring to his eyes, the fluid stinging them red.

With a stomach churning heave he splattered the bowl with the foul substance, wrinkled his nose up as the tears trickled down his pasty face. His throat burned and his head felt light as the drink and drugs were forcefully evicted from his system.

He leaned back on his haunches, his stomach spinning, and wiped the remains of vomit from the corners of his mouth. He ran a shaking hand through sweat sluiced hair and felt the sticky trail of tears against his burning cheeks. He hated being sick.

He hated himself more. He wished he was still the naïve Texan he'd been back when he'd entered the wrestling business, the boy full of dreams, full of life. Full of hope. The boy who had a conscience and ethics.

_Fuck Shawn ,what a great success story you turned out to be. _


	5. Chapter 5

Cramp spanned his limbs like a spider web of agony as he kneeled before the bowl, eyes half closed, hair flecking his sweat veiled face. Time swam around him in an endless void of loneliness.

He felt the cold air clutch at him through his thin shirt not caring that it made him shiver.

_Maybe it's not the cold making you do that. _

"Shurrup" muttered Shawn softly

_You're the one inflicting yourself with Soma Shakes_

"Not Soma Shakes" mumbled Shawn wincing as he stood. He gasped as the cramp sent a fire of hurt from his knees to his back.

_See and that's why the doctor said take care of yourself. He didn't say 'Hey Shawn, go out and party like it's 1989' did he? No because you're thirty five not twenty one. _

"Shut _up_" snarled Shawn wincing as he gingerly stumbled from the bathroom on trembling limbs. He sucked air sharply between his teeth as the pain continued to flare up his lower back.

He made his way slowly back into the living room, slumped on the sofa his back burning in agony as he lay there shivering, his eyes roaming the vast blank ceiling above him seeing flickers of life passed. Shadows of kliqs and championship belts danced and weaved across the canvas intermingling rapidly with flashes of fragmented family life. He shut his eyes to the dim images, whimpered in frustration as they remained imprinted albeit now tinted rouge beneath his eyelids.

"Shawn, you suck" he mumbled drowsily

_Couldn't have put it better myself _

He raised a quivering hand and tried to swat the voice away.

_Shawn-_

"Go away"

"Open your fucking eyes!"

Shawn startled at the voice so loud and clear near his ear; definitely not inside his head this time. The world blurred at the edges as the contorted face of Kevin Nash swam into view.

He glared, his flaming eyes narrowed to slits.

"What the hell are you playing at?!" Kevin growled dismissing pleasantries and jumping straight into his intervention.

"I was sleeping" muttered Shawn

"Sleeping or passing out?" snapped Kevin

"Sleeping" retorted Shawn

"Yeah, you normally get soma shakes when you're asleep Shawn?"

"Don't get soma shakes" denied the smaller man strongly

"Bullshit!" roared Kev yanking him upright

"Ow… Back! Watch the back!" gasped Shawn becoming more alert as his spine screamed in protest at such rough treatment.

"Sorry" said Kevin quietly. He meant to talk straight to Shawn and give him a huge wake up call but he didn't intend to cause him pain. Not physically anyway.

"What are you even doing here? I told you not to come" complained Shawn

"You also left me talking to thin air on the phone" snapped Kev, "What the hell are you even doing Shawn?"

"I'm-"

"Fucking up?"

"No!" spat Shawn

_Not much anyway?_

Kev sighed, his brow crinkled with frustration. How could he hope to achieve something he hadn't been able to so far in the span of their seven year friendship? Uprooting Shawn from a bed of denial had always been difficult. This was the same man who had refused to see that Sunny was stringing him along for eleven months.

"Shawn you're a mess" he snapped

"Thank you designated saviour of the Kliq" muttered Shawn sarcastically.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Was getting kid and Scott in rehab not enough now you gotta come save me too? What you gonna do with Paul, fix him up with a plastic surgeon?"

"Since when did _you_ call Hunter Paul?" asked Kevin letting the cheap jibe slide for now.

"Since he turned into a backstabbing bastard" seethed Shawn

"You or him?" questioned Kev quietly.

" I never did anything to him!" yelled Shawn, " I took care of him and looked out for him and all he did was burn me"

Kevin peered into azure slits of fury; Shawn's breathing dipped and dived with anger as he sat trembling.

"Do you honestly believe that?"

"Yes" snarled Shawn swiftly

"And in your world did you like Bret Hart? Did you end up with Sunny in a beach house in California? Did you time a bump right off the top of a casket? Just what colour is the sky in your alternative universe Shawn?!" barked Kevin agitatedly.

"What are you on about?"

"_Hunter_ was the one taking care of _you._ _He_ was the one looking out for _Shawn Hickenbottom,_ You burned _him_ and if you don't see that then the pills have _seriously_ screwed you up!"

"Why is everything always _my_ fault?!" cried Shawn sharply, "Other people fuck up too you know Kevin!"

"Did I say it was all you?"

"Yes!"

Kevin sighed, smeared his face with his palm in frustration.

"Ok, would you just listen? I know what you're doing Shawn. We all do. Well Hunter might not since you know he never downed a bottle of somas but me, kid and Scott we get it ok? You're trying to make life a never ending party, you wanna be the heartbreak kid 24/7 which is pretty funny cause I seem to recall a certain blonde squirt bashing a certain Hitman for doing the exact same thing –"

"Don't you dare compare me to him!" snapped Shawn, "I don't wanna be Shawn Michaels 24/7. God help me if I was, I'd be a –"

"Raving lunatic?" suggested Kevin a small grin on his face

"Yeah and I'm-"

"Just an average lunatic" finished Kev

"I'm not a lunatic"

"Oh no? Shawn, you're lying on a sofa shaking like a leaf in the breeze covered in sick, wearing knee braces and elbow pads. Your living room is topsy turvey and your wife and kid are hiding out at your parents' house. You. Have. Issues."

Shawn looked at Kevin, for once stunned to silence. He sat there he piercing blue eyes weighted with confusion as he tried to form the words of denial, to spit the lies from his acid tongue once more.

"I was playing shoot outs with Cam"

The child like honesty splurged forth and Shawn mentally kicked himself for sounding so stupid.

"You and Cam were what now? Please tell me you haven't bought your near two year old son a rifle to go hunting with his crazy daddy"

"I'm not stupid Kev"

"Well you are _kind of_ stupid"

"Cam wanted to play shoot outs. He hit me in the face with a water pistol" explained Shawn disregarding Kev's dig.

"Smart kid, obviously takes after Becky"

"Becks doesn't hit me"

"No but she should"

"Why am I friends with you again?"

"Because I saved you from getting your ass kicked in the locker room"

Shawn sighed as memories of the locker room flared. He pressed knuckles against weary eyes before blinking at his best friend.

"What should I do?"

The forlorn whisper tore at Kevin's heartstrings, any sardonic response he was thinking died on his lips.

"Get help" he answered finally.


	6. Chapter 6

The months had passed in a blur, each day blending into the next. Shawn hadn't done much since his argument with Hunter and heart to heart with Kevin. The empty promises to seek help had fallen and shattered mere days after he'd spoken them.

Rebecca hadn't come back for at least a week.

The never ending week of loneliness and heartache had stretched out into eternity.

Shawn shivered in the golden light, the dying warmth of summer weaning to autumn offered him no solace as he recollected Rebecca's assurances to leave for good if he didn't clean up his act. She vowed to take his baby with her, his little boy and the family he'd so desperately craved would be gone forever.

Unlike him, Rebecca could keep a promise.

Shawn tucked socked feet beneath him, glanced out the window at the vast greenery around him, the leaves skeletal and pale in comparison to their usual lush richness, shadows of their former selves.

There was a tear in his jeans, he fingered the frayed fabric, the rip split through the silence but he didn't care. He wanted to avert his gaze from the pitiful plants beating at his window, clawing their way into his consciousness – they weren't they only things dying and withering to ghosts of their former selves, there was more than one living thing being stripped of vitality.

He'd chosen to stay here, allowing Rebecca and Cameron to go shopping without him. Why bother? He'd only ruin it for them, just like he did everything else.

He continued pulling at the threads of his jeans, tearing them apart at the seams, the hole spread and oozed like the black hatred and self deprecation that pulsated through his veins.

He looked up from his destruction as the room dimmed, the sun hidden by greying clouds, the sky heavy and bristling with the threat of rain.

He remembered standing in thunderstorms before, glancing up at the blackened sky in the hot and humid air as ice cold water pelted his face, he remembered the energy that coursed through his veins, the thrill that shivered and trembled up his spine with every rumble.

The lightening would crack the sky in two, douse him in a blue flash and he would laugh, he knew no fear, could look danger in the face and not falter.

Now he could barely look himself in the eye as his reflection twisted in the mirror each morning.

Now he had no courage, no energy.

All he had was hatred and fury for the world that had shunned him, for parents who expected far too much, for friends who refused to accept him; mostly he had hatred for himself.

Deep at the crux of the hatred, love bubbled and thrived amongst the panic and fear. He would give his life for Rebecca and Cameron. How could he do anything less?

Without them he was truly nothing.

Yet the void he'd thought they'd fill still remained deep and gaping within him.

He sighed, his heart hammering painfully against his ribcage, he hoped Rebecca made it back before the storm broke, knew Cam was terrified of the howling wind and thundering crashes that came hand in hand with Texas thunder storms.

He peered out of the window his face mirrored in the darkened pane contemplating what Rebecca had asked of him the night before. She wanted him to accompany her to church, to see if he could gain support there, she said it had really helped her.

He felt his brow crease with scepticism, he'd been to church before and all they'd helped him with was his insomnia.

He nibbled at his lip, shame flooding him at his thoughts,

This was new. Normally he could care less what he did in relation to religion.

He looked down at the sill, glanced at his wife's Bible from the corner of his eye.

Shawn picked it up with shaking hands, smoothed the worn cover. Rebecca was always reading it; the spine was cracked and frayed from over use.

Maybe he _could_ find help in here.

He opened the book to where Rebecca had left off the night before.

"_**I will not leave you comfortless: I will come to you. (**_**John 14:18)"**

Shawn mouthed the words breathlessly before snapping the book shut with a bang.

"If you're so great where are you now?" he hissed angrily. His heart flared with fear, he couldn't understand how he'd been feeling so alone and as soon as he'd opened the sacred book his eyes had been drawn to that phrase.

_Maybe God doesn't converse with people who don't listen _

"And maybe I don't converse with stupid voices in my head" muttered Shawn

_Yet here you are doing just that. _

He placed the Bible gently back where he'd found it, could feel a slight shift in him, a feeling of nervousness and foreboding.

He allowed his gaze to rise back to the window pane; desperately sought his wife and child.

They were safe

_Familiar. _

They didn't scare him.

He gulped deeply, ran his tongue over cracked lips. Rebecca prayed all the time when she needed direction. He'd heard her pleading for guidance in the early hours when she thought he was still asleep.

"God?" he whispered softly, "I know I'm not, I mean I don't –"

He faltered, his rasping voice echoing throughout the empty house.

This was stupid.

He exhaled shakily, maybe praying worked better in a church.

Then again Rebecca prayed at home all the time

_Ah but do they come true?_

Shawn kneaded his forehead with weathered knuckles. He didn't have the answers anymore.

" God, I need your help" he blurted softly, the words escaping on a breath of urgency, " I need you to show me what to do so I don't lose them. I can't lose them. I need to be a better person. Will you help me? Please"

His voice cracked and faltered at the end of his plea.

" Are you there God?"

Silence swam around him, not even the voice in his head remained to keep him company as the salted tear trickled down the bridge of his nose.


End file.
